


Memories

by Moonlight_Lily



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-23
Updated: 2012-08-23
Packaged: 2017-11-12 18:00:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/494104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonlight_Lily/pseuds/Moonlight_Lily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'One day she came back, her hair all tangled and her clothes covered in mud, clutching a bunch of purple and green flowers for Father. Sansa kept hoping he would tell Arya to behave herself and act like the highborn lady she was supposed to be, but he never did. He just hugged her and thanked her for the flowers.' Inspired by this quote from a Game of Thrones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memories

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea how this happened. The quote just popped into my mind when I woke up and BAM! This happened! So sorry for the quality, but I'm still struggling through writer's block, so I hope you can forgive me.
> 
> Characters are not mine. I just borrowed them for a bit.

It was their final stop on the way before they reached King's Landing. They had reserved an entire inn for their party, yet they were too large in number and many of the guards were setting up their tents around the inn for the night.

Ned was in the stables, seeing that his and his men's horses were being watered and fed and inquiring about his girls from Vayon. Apparently Sansa was inside with Jeyne and Princess Myrcella and Arya had run off to Gods know where as she usually did.

After making sure his men were getting settled and checking over the girls' direwolves, Ned stepped into the inn, finding his eldest daughter giggling away with the princess and the steward's girl and Robert already well into his cups, laughing loudly and feeling up a buxom blonde settled into his lap.

Relieved that all seemed well and that Robert was too distracted to demand his company, Ned was about to ascend to his room for some much needed rest before supper when he heard the sound of hurried footsteps and a familiar cry behind him.

"Father!"

Ned turned around to see his 9-year-old daughter charging towards him, dress covered in mud and hair a wild, tangled mess around her head, a bunch of flowers clutched in her tiny fist.

He caught sight of Sansa from the corner of his eye, seeing the horror on his daughter's face and the disgust on Jeyne's while their blonde companion tried to hide her laughter behind her hand at the sight his little girl made.

"Father!" Arya exclaimed again, quieter this time, as she finally reached him and he squatted down and placed his hands on her shoulders.

"What are these?" He asked her as she thrust the battered flowers in his direction.

"These are for you!" Arya declared proudly, a large, toothy grin on her face.

"What are they for?"

She shrugged indifferently, sparing the purple and green petals a glance. "I just thought they looked pretty and picked some for you."

Ned smiled softly at her and drew her into his arms, feeling her grin stretching against his neck in a way he did not believe possible.

"Thank you Arya." She tightened her arms around his neck.

"I love you, Father."

"I love you too, sweetling." He murmured and kissed her temple lovingly.

Ned squeezed Arya to him for a moment longer before gently pushing her back, his hands still on her arms.

"Off you go. Take a bath before your Septa sees you."

Arya quickly planted a kiss on his bearded cheek and ran off. The purple flowers were Poison Kisses and were not exactly the best flowers to gift someone, but Ned would never tell her that. He just watched his little girl blunder happily up the stairs with a wistful smile on his face.

It was a memory Ned Stark saw pass before his eyes before the King's Justice hacked his head off with his own sword in front of his daughters and all of King's Landing.

It was a memory Arya Stark recalled when the blade of her father's greatsword, now reforged, met Illyn Payne's neck on the block, when she finally avenged her beloved father and liege lord.

_**Fin** _


End file.
